Research, anyone?

Vanessa sighed as she looked over at Dean. There were at least thirty books in the pile that they hadn't read and at least fifty in the ones that they had. "Did you finish looking through that book yet?"

He read over the same page for the third time and tried to wrap his head around the words. After taking a deep breath, he looked up at the girl with a tired smile. "You know me, Nessa," he joked. "If it doesn't have pictures, I just can't seem to get it." He sat back in the chair and tried not to wince as his back popped.

"Now that," he said, pointing at her with a grin, "is an idea I can get behind. The little library gnomes aren't going to come and drag these off if we duck out for a few minutes, will they?" He looked at the stacks upon stacks of books left to read and tried not to shudder. There's no way that they'd get through them before daylight, especially with his reading speed. "I might even be able to convince Sammy to come and help," he added hopefully.

Vanessa laughed as she stood up and shook her head. "No, Jack's not going to haul our books away if we go out to grab a bite to eat. And I think Sam said that he'll be by a bit later. He was working on translating some of the books that were in other languages."

"So he's an obedient little book gremlin," Dean pointed out with a laugh. "And," he said, drawing himself to his full height with a wide, mischievous grin, "I feel it's my job as a big brother to pester him when he's doing important things, so I'll text him once we get there. Get him to come and eat. I think I saw salads and other rabbit food on their menu."

"Like I said, it's a big brother thing," he laughed, slinging an arm around her shoulder. "Come on," he said with a long-suffering tone that was betrayed by his wide smile. "Let's hope in the Impala and I'll take you anywhere short of the moon."

"Pizza's good," he said as his stomach grumbled. "I'll go grab the car. You get in touch with the Moose. Then, we ride!" He threw a finger up in the air dramatically before laughing. "Give me a few minutes. I'll be back."

He pulled up in the Impala a few moments later, a Led Zeppelin song barely audible over the rumble of the engine. Leaning across the bench seat, he pushed the passenger side door open. "Any word from Sasquatch?"

"You think you're the only game in town? There are other things in New York that go bump in the night," he said with a wry grin. "And the day too. But mostly," he admitted, "we've been doing the tourist thing when we have a moment of downtime." It was rare that they actually got to stop and look around; it was just find a job, get there, get it done, and head on to the next.